Insanity's Company
by TheDarkWitchOfTheNight
Summary: my take on how Joker came to be. warnings for abuse, alcohal, and general violence. under construction!
1. 1991, Jack, age: 8

OK I know it has been a while but! I bring you my big project I have finally deemed myself far enough ahead to post this, and so I bring you…

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Insanity's company

1991, Jack, age 8

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The teacher at the front of the class continued to drone on, never noticing (or caring) that half the class was asleep.

It is here surrounded by "normal" children that we see a young boy, Jack Napier. Although he is, now, just a child he will grow to be the psychopath they all fear.

But for now, at least, he is just Jack.

Eventually the bell rings, wakening up the sleeping class and signaling the end of the day.

'Great' Jack thinks, ' time for my daily beatings.'

Jack is of average height and size; he has dirty blond hair and green eyes. Outwardly there is no reason to hate him, but children are cruel.

They hit him because, after years of being beaten, he has learned to keep quiet.

Jack stumbles home, not that its much of one.

He had a home, with loving parents, but his father died. Then his mom met HIM. The drunk beat her into submission and now runs her life, beating him for the hell of it.

Jack stumbles in from the cold. His stepfather is sitting in his recliner, predictably drunk and laughing at his appearance.

Jack is covered in scars, cuts and bruises some are newer than others, but it really doesn't matter. Today he is sporting several cuts and a black eye.

He tries to walk, stumbles and falls his waning strength giving out.

His stepfather roars with laughter. Somewhere his mother whimpers in a weak form of protest.

"SHUT UP YOU DIRTY WHORE!" his stepfather yells "why I put up with you I'll never know." He mumbled, raising a half empty bottle of whisky to his lips as he finished this statement.

"Don't yell at her" came a soft, pain filled voice.

At first the ugly drunk is surprised, the child spoke, then…

"You think you can tell me what to do! You little bastard!" he sprang from the chair to the boy, cowering on the floor, picked him up and pinned him against the wall at eye level. " you. Think. You. Have. Any. Say?" he screams punctuating his words by slamming his step son against the wall.

Unnoticed, Jacks mother stands and screams at the drunk "Stop! Your killing him!" the man throws the small boy across the room and turns to his wife, advancing slowly, scared she grabs a knife, the drunken man just laughs.

"you will learn, bitch, you and your bastard son."

Still scared, still watching Jack sees his step father wrestle the knife from his mother's hands. He watches horrified as he turns the blade against her mocking her, laughing.

"Stupid cunt, you make this too easy."

Then she is dead, he blood coating the drunken animal's hands.

Jack sits, his mouth agape, silent tears running down his face while his step father laughs, until a broken sob breaks the sound.

"why so serious son?" he asks in between heaves. " Don't you see? Its funny! She wanted to help you! Now!" he cuts off, laughing. " Now! She's dead!" he doubles over, still laughing.

But seeing his "son" still crying he is angered again. "Why! So! Serous? Child. Why! So! Serous?" the man steps slowly forward, muttering insanities.

Jack tries to run, tries to move but he cannot, he is to sore, to tired and to scared to move. Soon the man is upon him.

"Why so serious?" he asks again, picking up Jack's frail form. "let's put a smile on that Face."

The blade, still stained with his mother's blood is shoved in his mouth and he cryes out as his right cheek is sliced, then again when his left side is carved again.

The man drops the bleeding child on the floor, muttering something that sounds like "jack-o-lantern" to himself.

Jack passes out, his blood dripping to the floor.

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The sun shown on the child's face, hurting his eyes. Groaning he sits up, the memories of last night coming to him, accompanying the pain in his mouth.

Before him lays the knife, glimmering sickly in the morning sun, a grotesque thought passes through his mind.

_'Kill him, it would be easy… so easy…'_

'But I am no killer…' he tells himself, still his hand, white with blood loss, grips the knife.

Slowly he moves it back and forth, watching the light play across the bloodied blade.

_'He disserves it.' _A voice in the back of his head tells him. _'You feel the pain in your mouth, and he killed your mother… you know he deserves it.'_

He clutches his hands to his head, blood from the knife getting in his hair.

"shut up!" he says quietly, the voice laughs and fades.

Jack, now calm looks around the place he once called home. His eyes find his step father, sleeping on the couch.

Unconscious of his actions, he stands and walks to the sleeping figure, and watches him in his slumber, a silent battle filling his head.

_'kill him!_

'No! I am not a murder'

_'Do it!'_

'No!'

_'Kill HIM!'_

'NO!'

On the couch his step fathers stirs, silencing the battle.

As Jack watched his step father woke up.

"Wuz teh fuz append to urace?" he slurred.

Jack used to deciphering the mans slurs mentally translated the mans speech to: what the fuck happened to your face?

"you"

the man's eyes darted between the boy and the knife in his hand, memory slaming into him. The confusion on the drunk's face was quickly replaced with outrage.

"You little Bastard! You were going to off me weren't you!"

Startled Jack backed away.

"NO! I swear!"

"Bull shit!"

The man jumped off the couch making a grab for the boy.

"COME HERE YOU WORTHLESS PICE OF SHIT!"

Jack ran from the man, into the bathroom and tried to lock the door, but the older man was too fast.

"And now son, you die."

The man leapt forward, intent on killing his only remnant of his family, but he forgot about the knife.

The same knife that he used to kill his wife and scar his step son, was now plunged deep into his heart.

The man landed on the floor with a sickening thud. Jack dropped the knife, unbelieving of the sight before him.

Panicking and breathing hard, he ran to his room, intending to pack, but he was not passed the bathroom mirror before he stopped.

The cuts.

They made his mouth seem twice as large as it used to be, clotted blood traced where scars would surly form, making a permanent smile on his stricken face.

Slowly jack walked forward, touching his face gently.

"no one can see these, it would make me to obvious." He turned to the cabinet above the sink and began dressing the wounds. He ignored the pain, and the blood colored water. And cleaned and dressed the cuts the best he could.

He went to his room and grabbed his back pack, dumping the now useless school books, he replaced them with anti bacterial ointment and bandages from the cabinet as well as a small pillow and jacket, 2 pairs of jeans and 2 tee shirts. Before he left he raided the house for money, and found 3 hundred dollars in all. With a soft sigh he donned a ski mask and left the decimated house.

And so it is that Jack Napier entered the world.

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I hope you like this, I worked really hard on it, please review! They are my life blood!


	2. 1993, Jack, age 10

Disclaimer : I do not own any of the batman characters, they are trademarks of D.C. I am only borrowing them for my own sick and twisted purposes, and will return them shortly.

Insanity's company

1993, Jack, age: 10

Soft snoring filled a small apartment located in the narrows, it was small and meager with 2 mattresses directly on the floor. Occupying one of these mattresses was a child.

In the door way stood a man, he was handsome with his arms folded across his chest and his short black hair falling into his hazel eyes. A small smirk was on his face as he observed the sleeping child.

He pushed himself away from the wall, walking quietly toward the bed. As he got closer more was revealed about the sleeping child. For one thing he was a boy, he had dirty blond hair and a smile permanently carved into his otherwise beautiful face.

This is Jack Napier

Quietly the man begun speaking, griping the end of the boy's blanket.

"Ok Joker, I think you have slept-" he snapped the blanket off of the bed, leaving jack exposed to the cold. "LONG ENOUGH!" he yelled out.

Jack jumped into the air, crying out with surprise and landed on the floor with a resounding thud.

The man doubled over, laughing.

"God dam it Mike!" Jack punched the older man in the arm. "You scared the shit out of me!"

Mike continued laughing, rubbing his arm lightly. "Sorry Joker, I couldn't resist!"

Jack stood and walked out of the room, stretching as Mike followed, still chuckling quietly.

"So, what's to eat?" jack asked as he sat at a table and began playing with a pencil.

"Nothing" Mike said simply.

"What!" jack yelled indignant.

"You got money!"

"What happened to yesterdays hull?"

"Your big mouth Jack." Mike answered playfully.

Jack ground and let his head fall to the table, mike faltered.

"I had to pay some guys… or we would have had to leave."

"Again?" Jack looked at his friend who nodded.

He hated the crime lords who ran the city, all money and no heart. The room was silent for a moment then Jack brightened.

"Time for work."

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Jack ran down the street, his cheep sneakers slapping the wet pavement. As he ran he laughed wildly, even as bullets whizzed by his head, missing by a hair's breath.

Jack kept running down an ally where he jumped a fence and landed safely on the other side, but he kept running and soon he was with his friend and mentor Mike.

When Jack joined him, Mike joined the laughter. "Joker, I think you finally lost it!" he laughed.

"Bout dam time!" Jack replied. Mike cuffed him lightly on the head

"Don't curse." He reprimanded jokingly. " So what ya get?"

Jack held up a wallet and a gold watch.

"Not bad, we should be able to eat at least." Mike replied, taking the items. "Why were they shooting at you?"

"Its Gotham Mike, come on."

Mike just nodded.

Later they pawned the watch and enjoyed a small meal.

"Hey, Jack…"

"Yeah, Mike." Jack replied wiping burger off of his mouth.

"I was thinking of doing a big job…"

"No."

"We need the money Jack!"

"NO! We have everything we need here Mike! Everything! You are all I have, I cant loose you… I need you…"

"I'm sorry Jack, but we- you. Need more. More than snatching wallets can get us. We need this money, you, need this money."

Jack sighed "Fine, but don't make me say 'I told you so." Jack looked at his Friend/ brother and smiled.

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Soon planning began, and then it was time to move in.

It started easy enough, everything went well then the bank manager pulled a gun. Bullets were flying everywhere, and mike was hit, Jack ran.

He ran as far as he could, trying to get away from what had happened, but soon he stopped 13 blocks away.

Mike was dead.

The only family he had left, was gone.

Jack collapsed to his knees, the pain becoming too much.

"Why!" he screamed into the darkening sky.

"Why can't I have a family! Why cant some one love me! Is it not allowed! Can I not be happy? Why!"

He dropped his head, and lay on the pavement until it began raining.

No one noticed him, no one cared for him, no one looked for him.

He was alone.

Not completely aware of himself, he found a dry spot to sit and it was here that a figure approached him.

"My oh my! If it isn't little Jackie!" a boy around Jacks age with a white face and green hair came out of the shadows. The boy smiled, scares on his mouth making it seem larger, red lipstick making them more obvious.

"Go away, you're not real." Jack said, drawing his knees into his chest and laying his head on them, blocking the boy from his view.

"Oh now Jackie, that's not fair… after all I'm you and your real."

Instantly Jack's head snapped up, locking eyes with the boy. " You are not me! …And I am not you."

The boy scoffed. "Keep telling yourself that Jack." The boy sighed, sinking his hands deep into his pockets. For a while the only sound was the rain.

"Mike's dead huh?" the boy asked, kicking the ground.

"Yes." Jack answered simply, burying his head again.

The boy looked at him. "You could kill the guy wh-"

"I am not a killer god dam it!" jack cut him off, his head snapping back up.

"Could have fooled me Jack, you killed that bastard step father of yours."

Jack calmed and laid his head back on his knees. " Self defense." He said simply.

"You still killed him, plus you wanted to."

"No-" Jack began to respond, once again meeting the boy's eyes, but he was cut-off.

"You cant lie to me Jack" the boy tapped the side of his head "remember?"

Jack sighed. "I give up." He rested his had on his knees again.

"You'll do it?" the boy asked, hopeful.

"no."

"then why do you give up?"

"I give up on you." Jack responded, shooting the boy a glare over his knees. "and life, I give up on life." He closed his eyes and rested again.

"Jack, there is something you need to learn about life. It's a game. There is no rhyme or reason, just chaos. People live and die. And all that decides it is a game of Russian-roulette."

Silence prevailed until Jack spoke.

"That's not good…"

"what?"

Jack looked up at the boy, the figment of his imagination "your starting to make sense."

The boy just laughed.

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I went ahead and posted this, though I would really appreciate reviews, I accept anonymous reviews and don't care what you say about my story as long as you tell me what you think ill be happy! ^^ ttyl Dark.


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